


new lands

by damnbrunettes



Series: new lands [1]
Category: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-17
Updated: 2016-01-10
Packaged: 2018-05-07 06:10:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 17,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5446082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/damnbrunettes/pseuds/damnbrunettes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Phryne crossed the dining-room in hurried steps, her heart beating a staccado in her chest. She stopped when she saw him, standing awkwardly in her parent's hall, fidgeting with the hat in his hands. When he met her eyes, he smiled shyly.</p><p>Another post-season 3 story where Jack follows Phryne to London.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fair warning, this might be both the fluffiest and the smuttiest thing i've ever written. It's also my first Miss Fisher fanfiction. I desperately hope I haven't butchered those characters...

« Dinner is served, miss. »

Phryne rose her head from her book and nodded at Mister Carson with a small smile. She folded the corner of her page and laid the book down on the small table. She uncurled her legs and slipped her feet back in her shoes. She got up and joined her parents at the dinner table. She took her usual seat on her father's left, opposite her mother.

« Are you staying in tonight, Phryne, love ? » her mother asked, her voice a pitch to high to be perfectly innocent.

« Yes, why ? » Phryne glared lightly.

« You seem to be less outgoing than you used to be. »

Phryne sighed and smoothed the napkin in her lap.

« I had a luncheon today and a party last night, mother. How is that not outgoing ? »

« Leave the girl alone, Margaret, » her father cut in.

Phryne smiled. Ever since she had flown him to England, Henry had been more considerate, more gentle with her that ever before.  She didn't fool herself into thinking it was going to last. But she would enjoy it while it did. And then she would leave and travel back to Melbourne. At that thought, she sighed softly and sunk a bit further in her chair. She played around with her fork, pushing around the food in her plate, aligning the peas into a straight line before making a circle out of them. When she looked up, her mother was staring at her with a grin full of mischief while her father shook his head in what looked like exasperation.

« Any news from Melbourne, dear ? » Margaret asked, as if reading her mind, before shooting a knowing look at her husband.

Since he had shown up at her doorstep with flowers and jewelry, two weeks before he was meant to arrive by boat, Henry and Margaret Fisher were thick as thieves, apparently reliving the romance of their younger days. Phryne was terribly happy for them. But as sweet as it was to witness her parents' love renewed, it made her feel left out and terribly lonely. She had already had plenty of offers since she arrived two weeks ago but she found herself lonely for a particular man. It seemed no amount of dancing and flirting would keep Jack Robinson out of her mind for long.

« I've had a telegram from Mr Butler, » Phryne answered eventually. « Hugh and Dot are back from their honeymoon and settling in to their new home. Oh, and Aunt Prudence and Doctor Mac have had a row about some hospital business or other. »

Margaret nodded and kept watching her daughter expectantly. Phryne herself had stared and stared very expectantly at the telegram as if new words would appear on the paper.

« Dot says she'll write soon, » Phryne added with a shrug of her shoulders.

She glared when her mother shared another knowing look with her husband. Undoubtedly, Henry Fisher had not kept to himself what he had witnessed of her goodbyes with Jack. As honest as she had been when she had told him to come after her, she wasn't sure what she actually expected to happen now. But she longed for any news of him and she found herself slightly disgruntled at her household for not telling her a word about him.

A knock at the door brought her out of her head. A minute later, Mr Carson stood in the door frame of the dining-room.

“Miss Fisher,” he said. “A detective inspector Jack Robinson here to see you?”

“Oh bloody hell,” her father muttered next to her.

It took her a full second to register Mister Carson's words. But when she did, she leapt out of her seat and crossed the dining-room in hurried steps, her heart beating a staccado in her chest. She stopped when she saw him, standing awkwardly in her parent's hall, fidgeting with the hat in his hands. When he met her eyes, he smiled shyly.

“Miss Fisher,” he greeted her.

Oh how she had missed his voice. She closed the remaining distance in two great strides and flung herself at him. Her arms went around his neck and soon, his arms wrapped around her waist, his free hand spanning her back.

“Jack,” she sighed.

He smelled nice and felt even better against her. They had never really hugged before, she realized. She let go of him and took a step back. She tilted her head down and looked up at him through her long lashes. She grinned.

“Jack,” she greeted again.

“Phryne,” he answered her.

“Phryne?” came her mother's voice from behind her.

She took a step back and turned slightly. Behind her, stood a petite woman, her brown hair styled elegantly. Where Prudence Stanley always seemed stern and inflexible, her sister appeared at first glance gentle and cheerful, yet no less formidable. She looked for all the world like an older version of Phryne Fisher.

“Jack, this is my mother. Mother, this is...”

“Inspector Robinson, yes,” Margaret cut her off and took a step towards Jack, reaching her hand out. “It's such a pleasure to finally meet you. I've heard so much about you.”

“Lady Fisher.”

Jack smiled, took the woman's hand in his and bowed down to lightly press his lips against the skin. Margaret turned her head towards her daughter, smiled and gave her an approving nod. Phryne rolled her eyes.

“I am very sorry to barge in on you announced, Baroness,” Jack apologized. “I should let you get back to your evening.”

“Nonsense Jack!” Phryne exclaimed.

“Have you had dinner yet, Inspector?” her mother asked.

“No, but...”

“No use fighting, Jack,” Henry Fisher quipped. “You can barely win an argument with one of them, but two?”

He scoffed and walked back into the dining-room. Smiling, Phryne linked her arm with him.

“Mister Carson!” she called. “Would you please add another seat at the table?”

“Of course, miss.”

The man nodded and Phryne led Jack to the dining-room where she sat him down next to her. She slid her chair slightly closer to his and turned her whole body towards his. He stared, hypnotized by the open affection, the sheer happiness painted on her face. Any doubt he'd had during his travel, his worry that maybe it wasn't what she had meant, that such a grand gesture of traveling 17 000 miles to see her would scare her off... It all disappeared the moment she'd hugged him, until all he felt was happiness and relief at seeing her.

Phryne opened her mouth as if to speak but stopped herself when Mister Carson came in to set a full plate in front of Jack. She chuckled when she saw his hungry look.

“Eat, Jack. I know better than to stand between you and a meal.”

He didn't bother to protest. Instead he dug in heartily for his first meal on land in a month. He looked over at Phryne when her hand left his arm. She faced forward again and brought her forkful of the now lukewarm food to her lips.

“When did you arrive to London, Inspector?” Margaret asked him.

“Just this morning.”

“Don't you have any luggage, Jack?” Phryne inquired.

“I left them at the hotel.”

“Oh, well, Mister Carson? Please arrange for Inspector Robinson's luggage to be delivered here as soon as possible,” Phryne asked the butler.

“Oh no, Miss Fisher,” Jack protested. “I'm already imposing on you enough.”

“Inspector Robinson,” Margaret cut in. “You've just crossed half the globe just because my impetuous daughter asked you to. The least we can do is welcome you into our home.”

“Just accept it, Jack,” Henry added without looking up from his meal. “You won't ever win an argument again, boy.”

Phryne smiled and rested a gentle hand over his lower arm, stroking her thumb over the bare skin at his wrist.

“We'd all be so happy to have you as our guest, Jack,” she told him, her soft voice washing over him until he was struggling to blink.

“In that case, I'm very grateful for your hospitality,” Jack acquiesced.

Soon after, Mister Carson brought tea and dessert. Jack and Phryne both remained mostly silent, preferring to keep the many questions lingering between for a later, more private time.

“Jack, how about an evening stroll until your belongings arrive?” Phryne suggested as soon as dinner was disposed of.

He nodded his agreement and they both took their leaves from her parents. He followed her silently as she guided him through the busy streets of London, until they were walking by the river Thames. Her arm stayed linked with his, her hand casually wrapped around his upper arm.

“I shouldn't have asked you to come,” Phryne broke the silence.

Her voice was barely above a whisper but she might as well have been screaming it for the effect it had on Jack. His step faltered and his throat closed up.

“Why did you then?” he asked, his tone harsher than he had meant it.

She looked up at him, a frown on her face. She stopped walking.

“Oh Jack, no, I didn't mean it like that,” she exclaimed with a breathless laugh. She grabbed the lapels of his jacket and stepped close to him. She smiled and looked up at him. “I'm terribly happy you're here Jack.” She waited for a beat, her palm open over his heart, making sure she had appeased him a bit, before she carried on. “But my mother was right. I am exceedingly impetuous. I don't bother to think about the consequences.”

He chuckled and he tilted his head in agreement. She glared lightly at him.

“This trip, Jack, it must have cost you a fortune. I don't even know how you got here. And your job! I wasn't thinking about this when I asked you to come.”

“What were you thinking about?” Jack wondered with a teasing glint in his eyes.

“That I didn't want to be apart from you,” Phryne admitted.

They looked at each other, both a bit stunned at how easily those words had come out. Jack raised a hand to straighten her beret just a millimeter. Any excuse to brush his fingers over her silken hair.

“Don't worry about it, Phryne,” he assured.

“How did you come anyway?”

He grinned and started walking again. She caught up with him in a second, grabbed his arm and glared at him.

“Tell me or I'm throwing you in the river,” Phryne teased.

“All right, but if I'm going down, you're going down too.”

He heard her laugh. He looked at her. She stared at him with dark and dangerous eyes, her mouth half-open in delight. That's when he heard his own words and the double-entendre that made Phryne look at him like she was about to ravish him on the spot.

“Phryne,” he warned in a growl.

“Never mind, Jack. Plenty of time for that later,” she added cheekily. “Now tell me.”

“Well...” he started to explain, happy to focus on something other that the comfortable weight of her against him. “I had an old army buddy of mine fly me to Perth the day after you left. There, I met up with the ship your father was meant to take. And I may have used your father's ticket to get on board...”

He looked at her hesitantly, his eyes guarded as he waited for her reaction.

“How decidedly clever of you Jack!” she exclaimed.

Still walking, she turned towards him, her chest pressing against his arm.

“I'll pay you back for it, I promise,” he felt compelled to add.

"Oh don't be ridiculous Jack! It's a good thing that ticket didn't go to waste. What about your job? How did you convince them to let their best detective leave the continent?”

“After the whole Sanderson and Fletcher debacle, the new Chief Commissioner likes me well enough.”

“As he should, he wouldn't have his job if it wasn't for you.”

“And seeing as I hadn't really taken a vacation since the war, he was understanding about my request. He did imply that I was passing up on a promotion by leaving for a few months, but that doesn't matter.”

She stopped in her tracks and stared at him, her brows furrowed and her mouth closed in a thin line.

“Jack! Why would you do that?”

“Because any promotion at this stage would mean a desk job. Which would mean much less detective work and much more paperwork. That's of no interest to me, Phryne, really. I'm doing exactly what I want to do.”

She stared at him with soft eyes and a softer smile. She tilted her head sideways. For all the wilderness Jack knew she possessed, he was struck by how delicate she looked in that moment, with her hair catching the moonlight and her lips painted a light pink rather than her usual bright red.

“Exactly want you want to do, huh?” Phryne asked, looking up at him through her eyelashes.

“Well... there's something else I wouldn't mind doing...”

“Really? And what would that be, Jack?”

Jack cupped her cheek and slowly, so very slowly, leaned down towards her. He heard her suck in a shallow breath and his gaze fell to her lips. He looked into her eyes once more and, satisfied to see no hint of a doubt, he closed his eyes and pressed his lips to hers. She sighed and brought her hands to his neck, her thumbs brushing his jaw. She pressed against him. He wrapped an arm around her waist, a hand low on her hip, just shy of reprehensible in a public setting. They broke apart but stayed close. She rested her forehead against his cheek as he bent down to press a light kiss under her ear. She moaned and scratched her nails against his skull. Somehow, he found the strength to pull away from her.

“Exactly what I want to do,” he said again, his voice a low rumble that traveled down her spine.

She huffed a laugh and swayed slightly. She took his arm and nestled back against him as they started walking again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is unbeta-ed and english isn't my first language so, please, do forgive me for the mistakes that are sure to remain...


	2. Chapter 2

Phryne was in a delicious mood when she got up the next day. She hurried down the stairs, her silk robe trailing after her, and reached the dining-room, disappointed to find only her mother seated for breakfast.

“Is Jack still sleeping?” she asked the older woman.

“Good morning to you too, darling,” Margaret retorted, half a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth.

Phryne sighed and apologized. She walked over to her mother to kiss her cheek, before sitting down opposite her.

“I haven't seen the Inspector yet this morning,” Margaret answered. “Such a long journey must have taken its toll on him. Do your lovers often cross the world to follow you?”

Phryne froze, the fork halfway to her lips. Her hand fell back on the table as she looked in her mother's unreadable eyes. Despite the early education Margaret Fisher shared with her sister, and despite her years as a Baroness, there was a lot of Collingwood left in the woman. Although not as liberal as her daughter, she was certainly not as prudish as Prudence.

Yet it wasn't in Phryne's habits to discuss her conquests with her mother. It was even less in her habits to lump Jack in with the numerous other men that she had favored over the years. She was about to retort when Jack himself walked in the room, already dressed in a sharp suit.

“Good morning, Inspector Robinson,” Margaret greeted him. “How did you sleep?”

“Like a log, Baroness, thank you for asking. Miss Fisher,” Jack nodded at her.

“Jack,” Phryne returned the greeting with a smile.

He sat down next to her and smiled back. The front door opened, closed and Henry Fisher joined them in the dining-room. He took his seat at the head of the table and handed Phryne a newspaper, folded in half. He ignored Phryne's puzzled look and bellowed for Mister Carson to bring warm tea.

“What's this?” Margaret asked, straining to get a glimpse of the paper across the table. Jack smiled at the familiarity of it. Curiosity seemed to be a trait shared by mother and daughter.

“The son of the Earl of Aldford got engaged,” Henry Fisher explained.

“Well he didn't waste any time,” Phryne commented.

“What did you expect?” her father groaned. “You can't refuse a man's proposal and then get upset when he moves on.”

Phryne scoffed, unaware of how Jack stiffened in his seat.

“Do I look upset, father? I have no interest in the Viscount.”

She turned her head towards Jack and rolled her eyes with obvious exaggeration. She deflated slightly when Jack didn't react. The rest of breakfast was a quiet affair and Phryne quickly excused herself to go get ready. When Phryne got down a while later, she found Jack in the lounge with her father, who seemed to be teaching the younger man a card trick.

“Phryne!” Henry exclaimed when he saw her. “Come over here, my girl.” She glared lightly but walked closer to her father. He pretended to fish for something behind her ear and made a show of revealing a queen of hearts. “Was this your card?” he asked Jack.

She sighed but Jack chuckled and the corner of her mouth raised in a half-smile in spite of herself.

“Yes, it was, Baron. Here is she is, the queen of hearts,” Jack answered, although his gaze remained firmly focused on Phryne.

It was Henry Fisher's turn to sigh. He left the room, muttering something about a third wheel.

“The queen of hearts, Jack?” Phryne repeated, looking at him with raised eyebrows. He shrugged. She sat down on the sofa. She crossed her legs and leaned forward, her elbows resting on her knees. Jack's gaze briefly fell to her cleavage and she resisted the urge to smirk. “Is this about what happened at breakfast?”

“You've been here, what, two weeks?” Jack wondered. He stuck a hand in his pocket and rested the other against the wall nearest the sofa. “And you've already had an offer of marriage?”

“I've already turned down an offer of marriage, Jack,” Phryne asserted. She reached a hand out to him. “Come sit here, darling.”

He frowned, casting a curious look at her. After a minute, he complied and joined her on a sofa, a respectable few inches between them. Phryne didn't close the distance but turned her body towards him and her knee knocked into his.

“Why are you upset, Jack?” she asked, desperately trying not to sound as annoyed as she was.

“I'm not. Well, I'm not upset at you, anyway. It's just... A Viscount, Phryne?” he chuckled, a humorless laugh that made Phryne frown. “You're getting proposed to by Viscounts and I had to steal your father's ticket because I couldn't possibly offer that kind of trip on my own.”

“Jack,” Phryne sighed. She brought one leg up on the sofa, curler under her with her knee pressing into his thigh. “Do you think me that shallow that titles and money would mean more to me than a kind heart and a quick wit?”

“I do think you wonderful enough that you deserve only the best, Phryne.”

Her eyes watered and her heart jumped in her throat. She stared and stared at the amazing man sitting in front of her, a man who crossed the world for her, a man who accepted her, and respected her, loved her probably. She was struck by the feeling that she never wanted to be without him. A few months ago, the thought of a committed relationship would have scared her more than any spider ever could. Now, the only thing that scared her was the idea of not having him in her life.

Suddenly, she was straddling him and cupping her face in her hands.

“You are the best, Jack.”

She kissed him. His hands moved to her hips. She tilted her head, looking at him with hooded eyes. Her lips ghosted over his. He whispered her name in a raspy voice. His mouth opened under hers and she dipped her tongue in. She slid her fingers under his collar and bucked against him, grinding against his groin. He leaned back and sucked in a sharp breath.

“God, Phryne,” he hissed. “Not here," he protested, although the gaze he set on her was dark with arousal.

She laughed and it might have been the dirtiest sound Jack had ever heard. Phryne's hands traveled down over his chest and further down still until he covered them with his own. He cast a warning look at her. When the door suddenly opened, Phryne slid to the very small spot to his left and found herself tightly pressed between Jack and the armrest. When she crossed her legs, her foot settled against his calf. She gave him a tiny shrug and a quite convincing innocent smile.

Margaret Fisher was looking at them, her face wearing a half-amused, half-exasperated expression. Jack had a feeling that Fisher the daughter, was familiar with that look. He, on the other hand, was praying for the floor to open up and swallow him whole.

“I'm sorry to interrupt you two lovebirds,” Margaret apologized. Phryne rolled her eyes and Jack cleared his throat.

“It's all right, mother. We were about to go out.”

Margaret raised an eyebrow at that. Jack would have laughed at her disbelieving expression if he wasn't partly responsible for it. Phryne grabbed his hand and stood up, dragging him behind her.

“Come on, Jack, let's go sightseeing!” Phryne exclaimed. “Don't wait up, mother!”

He tried not to trip over his own feet on his way out. He looked back over his shoulder.

“Good luck,” Margaret Fisher mouthed and winked.

* * *

They rode the tube to Saint James' Park. Every time the car slightly shook, Phryne fell against him and his hands instantly went to her waist to steady her. She didn't fool him, her wide grin and the mischievous glint in her eyes telling him she was enjoying the excuse way too much.

They strolled by the lake in the middle of Saint James' Park. Jack let go of her arms and walked closer to the water. He bent down to pick up a couple of small rocks and started skipping them across the water.

“Not bad,” Phryne observed. “But you haven't seen anything yet.”

She smirked and fell to her knees at Jack's feet. He closed his eyes at the sight and the corners of his mouth twitched with the effort of hiding a smile. When his eyes opened again, she was standing by the water. She turned sideways and bent down slightly. Her arm swung back and forth before the rock left her hand and skittered across the water in seven perfect ricochet.

Phryne turned around on her heels with a victorious “ha!”. He glared playfully at her. He grabbed another oblate rock and prepared to throw it. He stiffened when he felt Phryne press against him from behind.

“Phryne?” he stuttered.

She rested a hand over his hip and snuck a leg between his.

“Your legs should be wider apart,” she explained in a low voice.

He threw the rock which skipped three pitiful times before dropping at the bottom of the lake. Phryne giggled. He turned to face her.

“You were distracting me,” he grumbled.

“I should hope so,” she replied with a proud smile.

She took his arm again and they walked away. They grabbed a quick lunch at a food cart. They settled down on a bench to enjoy it, their thighs pressed together as if a second without any sort of contact was to much to bear.

“How are you enjoying London?” Jack asked her.

“I'm enjoying it much more now,” she answered brightly and pressed a lingering kiss at the corner of his mouth. “Don't worry darling, I like Melbourne better.”

He cast a serious look at her, ready to assure he wasn't fishing for a reassurance that she would come back to Australia with him. She grabbed his hand and pulled him on his feet.

“I really do enjoy Melbourne more,” Phryne said as they walked. “I feel more free there.”

Jack almost bumped into a man walking a dog, too focused was he on Phryne. Her hair curled delightfully against her cheeks, rosy with the crisp autumn air. His heart tightened with how much he loved her.

“In Melbourne, people know me for my great detective skills and my scandalous lifestyle,” Phryne carried on. She looked up at him, her eyes opened wide with joy. “In London on the other hand, I'm the Honorable Phryne Fisher, the Baron's daughter, australian-exile and _nouveau riche_ and... well I'm still scandalous in London obviously,” she giggled and squeezed his upper arm. “Still, it's stifling.”

He pressed a kiss against her hair. She softened at the tender gesture, casting a shy look at him and smiling slightly.

“How much time off do you have?” Phryne asked.

“Three months.”

“Then we'll leave London next week.”

“We?” Jack questioned.

“Of course. My parents' marriage is safe and more solid than ever I would even say.” Phryne rolled her eyes, as if mocking her parent's happiness. Yet her eyes shone with pride and joy. “My parents are each other's family. _My_ family is back in Melbourne. Well, most of my family anyway,” Phryne added and turned sideways to press against him.

She smiled brightly at him. He was entranced by it. Three words caught in his throat. The need to tell her was becoming inescapable. Yet he still wasn't sure she was ready to hear them. Instead, he stopped walking and took her in his arms, hugging her tightly against him. After a second, Phryne wrapped her arms around his waist. She pressed her lips to his jaw and sighed softly. When he pulled away, she looked at him as if she knew, and as if she was perfectly fine with his feelings. Maybe the words wouldn't have to be silenced for much longer.

They reached Buckingham Palace and Phryne did her best to distract the guards. Jack laughed at her antics before grabbing her hand and dragging her away from the poor lads. They strolled down the Mall until Admiralty Arch.

They stopped for a cup of tea at a small cafe on Trafalgar Square then went in the National Gallery. Phryne and Jack shared a love for art and they took turns instructing the other on a particular piece. Jack talked about a painting as if he was telling a tale. Phryne closed her eyes and rested her head on his shoulder, letting his warm voice wash over her.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm upping the rating to E, a little for this chapter but mostly for the next. ;)  
> Merry christmas lovelies!

When they left the museum, night had fallen. Phryne dragged him to a jazz club full of bright young things, several of them friends of Phryne's.

“So that's what you were waiting for,” a bubbly, blonde woman teased Phryne before winking at Jack.

“Now I understand why you love Melbourne so much,” a tall brunette laughed loudly.

He was distracted from his own embarrassment by the deep, throaty laugh that escaped Phryne's lips.

“You're a lucky man,” a tall mustached blond in a sharp suit commented in a wistful way that would have annoyed Jack if it wasn't for the woman hanging on his arm sporting a dazzling smile.

“I know,” Jack replied while looking at Phryne.

“Well this is disgustingly lovely,” the blonde pretended to shudder. “Have fun you two!” she added before walking away, followed by the rest of the group.

“Sorry about that,” Phryne apologized once they were alone. He followed her to the bar when she ordered them champagne. “You know that's the second man I've heard say you're a lucky man,” she told Jack.

“Really? Who was the other?” Jack asked.

“Guido,” she answered with a wide grin.

He frowned, rethinking his assumptions about what had went down between her and the Italian.

“Well, they're right,” he admitted again.

Her smile got smaller, more vulnerable. She leaned forward to kiss him. The tip of her tongue pushed against his lips before she pulled back and fixed wide and darkened eyes on him. Phryne downed the rest of her glass, took Jack by the hand and dragged him on the dance floor.

He indulged her for a few songs, spinning and dipping and uncaring at how tightly she pressed herself against him. By the end of the last song, Phryne didn't even touch the ground anymore. One of her legs was settled between his, with Jack's hand firmly wrapped around her thigh, underneath her dress. Her toes just brushed the top of his shoes. Her other leg was bent high against Jack's waist.

He held her tight, his big hand splayed large over her back. She looked down at him, her mouth half-open as she panted. She ran her fingers through his hair. When the music changed, she slowly slid down his body. She stared at him with nothing but lust. She wet her lips.

“Phryne,” he all but growled.

She hummed and that sound alone was almost enough to make him come undone. He looked over her shoulder and caught sight of a darkened hallway. He took her by the elbow and as casually as possible, they crossed the room. Jack cast a look over his shoulder before stepping into the shadows of the empty hallway.

“Jack?” she purred.

He turned and pressed her against the wall. She giggled before his mouth covered hers and the sound turned into a moan. His tongue immediately found hers. Once again, she wrapped a leg around him. He pushed his thigh hard against her core. She gasped sharply. She bucked against him and her head fell back, hitting the wall with a small thud. He scraped his teeth against the soft skin of her neck.

“See what you do to me?” Jack murmured. “An officer of the law committing public indecency.”

“You're not an officer of the law here, Jack,” she whispered breathlessly. “Only my goof.”

He chuckled with his lips at her throat. His hand slid up her thigh, over her garter, stopping just at the edge of her knickers. His thumb slid just under the material, brushing over the bare skin.

“Jack, please,” she whimpered.

He straightened up in order to look into her eyes, half-lidded with desire. Her lips were free of her usual bright red. Her hair was mussed. Her cheeks were flushed. She had never looked more beautiful. He told her so, rasping the words in her ear.

He hoisted her up and she hooked her legs around his waist. He curled his hand around the back of her left knee to push her leg up high, her ankle resting over his shoulder. While his left hand supported her, his right slid under the silky material of her underwear.

He trailed a finger along her folds and pressed a thumb at the small nub he knew promised the most pleasure to a woman. She arched off the wall sharply. He swallowed her moan. He pushed one long finger inside her, then a second. Her eyes rolled back. She clutched his shirt and scraped her nails over the back of his head.

“Fuck, Jack, move,” Phryne hissed when his fingers were still for to long. Happy to oblige, he started pumping his fingers in and out of her. “Yes, harder,” she keened.

He thrust in and out of her, harder, further inside her. He kissed a trail from the hollow of her throat to her earlobe, stopping to feel her quick heartbeat against his lips. He pressed the heel of her hand to her clit, curled his fingers inside her and she came, clenching around him and biting down hard on her lip to keep silent.

Her whole body stiffened and softened the next second. Her head fell back against the wall, her eyes closed. She exhaled a long breath. She whimpered when his fingers left her.

He slowly put her down. He barked out a laugh when her knees buckled. He wrapped an arm around her waist to support her. He stuck his hand inside his pocket, cleaning his fingers on his handkerchief. When Phryne opened her eyes, Jack was smirking.

“You certainly look proud of yourself,” she quipped.

He shrugged and kissed her quickly. Her hands went to the waistline of his pants with an eager look. Although they had become uncomfortably tight, Jack stopped her from going further and cast her a warning look. As if to prove his point, three young men stumbled into the hallway and walked past them.

Phryne stepped away from Jack. She fixed her hair as best she could, and straightened her dress. When she looked back at Jack, he was still standing where he had been, although his head was bent forward, his forehead against the wall and his hands above him.

“Jack?” Phryne called.

“Give me a minute,” came Jack's gruff answer.

Phryne giggled when she realized his problem. She felt slightly sorry for him, although he was the one who had declined her offer to take care of him. She stepped close to him, her hands against his back and leaned forward to whisper in his ear.

“Can you imagine if Aunt P had walked in on us?”

“Yep, that should do it,” Jack commented. He took another deep breath before turning towards Phryne. He shot her a playful look. “Miss Fisher...” he sighed. “I should arrest you.”

“Hmm... have you brought handcuffs?”

He shook his head and followed her out of the hallway and out of the club. They took a taxi back to her parents' house. Phryne pressed herself against him to point at various monuments through the window. The playful glint in her eyes told Jack she knew exactly what she was doing.

When they walked into the house, they found Phryne's parents settled into the lounge, laughing over a game of checkers. Henry seemed to conceit the game as he raised his glass to his wife with a smile. Margaret clinked her glass to his and drank the amber liquid.

Phryne was taken aback by how familiar the scene felt. By the wistful look on Jack's face, she wasn't the only one who noticed it. Her parents' easy domesticity struck a chord in her and suddenly there was a knot in her stomach and a lump in her throat. Still unnoticed, Phryne turned around and left for the kitchen with Jack on her heels.

“I'm dying for some tea and biscuits,” Phryne exclaimed with a wide smile that didn't quite reach her eyes.

Jack nodded and watched her move around the small room.

“Are you all right Phryne?” he asked after a minute.

Without a word, Phryne put the kettle to boil before sitting down at the table. Jack took the seat opposite her.

“You once tried to walk away from me because you couldn't accept me,” Phryne said softly. Her voice was small and her brow furrowed. She stared at her knotted hands resting on the table. Jack longed to take her hands in his but he also felt she wouldn't welcome the touch in that instant. “Do you accept me now, or are you just hoping that, somehow, someday, I will change?”

“I love you,” he burst out.

It seemed important to him that she knew it, that she heard the words. She smiled tightly at him. She didn't seem surprised, nor frightened by his admission. She didn't seem overjoyed either.

“I know,” she whispered. “And against my better judgment, I find myself desperately in love with you, Jack Robinson.”

His heart skipped a beat. His Adam's apple bobbed up as he swallowed heavily. Her words weren't as freeing as he thought they would be.

“But is it enough for you, Jack? Because no matter how much I want to commit to you, and I do, I will never accept to get married nor will I ever want a child other than Jane. I will never be my mother. I will never be traditional and I won't settle down.”

The kettle whistled and she startled. She stood up and finished preparing the tea. She took out cups and biscuits and set everything down onto the table. Jack followed her every move with soft eyes.

“I love you,” Jack repeated once she sat back down. Phryne shot him an annoyed look and he chuckled. “I know who you are and I would never want you to change, because then you wouldn't be the person I fell in love with. I only want to be with you for as long as you want me, Phryne.”

He brought the tea cup to his lips but his eyes didn't leave hers. Phryne eyed him with wonder.

“There's only one thing I ask of you,” Jack added. Phryne's face fell and her eyes closed. “Promise me you'll always be honest with me.”

Her brows furrowed as she waited for him to carry on. Jack curled his hands around his cup and looked down. When he spoke again, his voice was gruff with the heaviness of the moment.

“If there is ever a day when you decide to take another man to your bed, Phryne, don't do it behind my back. Talk to me about it. I don't want you to hide things from me.”

She got up and slipped onto his lap. She brushed a hand in his hair and kissed his forehead.

“My modern man,” she breathed.

They were staring at each other with a mix of adoration and lust, when someone cleared their throat. Jack shot up, dropping Phryne on her feet without ceremony. She must have bumped into the table because she rubbed a hand over her hip while she glared at him. Both the Baron and the Baroness stood a few feet away from them. While Henry Fisher looked at them with a look of utter annoyance, Margaret, half-hidden behind him, was obviously trying to stifle a laugh.

“We didn't hear you come in, darlings!” the older woman exclaimed. “We got worried when we saw the light on in the kitchen.”

“You were in the middle of a game. We didn't want to interrupt you,” Phryne told her.

“Did you have a nice day?” Margaret asked.

Phryne hummed in response, nodded and crossed her arms, looking overall as awkward as Jack felt.

“Do you smoke, Jack?” Henry Fisher questioned.

“Not really, Baron, no.”

“Then you can come keep me company while I enjoy a cigar.”

Jack acquiesced and reminded himself that he had faced far scarier men than Henry Fisher. Phryne rolled her eyes.

“Well I'm off to bed then,” she announced. “Goodnight everyone.”

She stepped close to Jack and pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth. She shot a warning look at her father before leaving the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fyi, a goof is 20's slang for a flapper's boyfriend. ;)


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is basically 3000 words of smut...

Jack was in the process of undoing his tie, his jacket already discarded, when a small knock made him turn his head towards the door. Before he had time to move, the door opened. Phryne slipped in, as quick and lithe as a cat, and closed the door behind her. She leaned back against the wood and fixed wide eyes on him.

“I couldn't sleep,” she told him with a small shrug and a smirk.

She was wearing a silver robe he had never seen before. Her hair was free and her face devoid of make-up. He felt the familiar stirring of desire low in his stomach. He took a step towards her.

“I think your father likes me,” he boasted.

“All Fishers like you apparently,” she replied.

“He may like me less if he finds you in my bedroom at this hour.”

She didn't move from her place against the door. Her expression turned more serious as he stepped closer to her, until there was less than a foot between them.

“Do you want me to go?” she asked him, her voice as soft as she looked.

She was as seductive as she always was, but not overly so. Jack understood that she was letting him take the lead. He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. He leaned closer to her.

“I don't want you to go, Phryne,” Jack whispered.

Her eyelids fluttered. There was something about the way he said her name that sent a rush of warmth through her. Her hands went to his tie and she slowly undid it, sliding it along his neck. She made a show of dropping it to the floor. She saw his clenched jaw and his blown pupils and smirked.

He reached for her then, grabbed her by the waist and kissed her with abandon. He turned them around so that he could walk her backwards towards the bed. He grasped her buttocks firmly and pressed her against him. She moaned into his mouth. She cupped him through his trousers. He grunted and jerked at the touch. He was painfully hard already but he wanted it to last long enough for Phryne to be utterly satisfied.

Her eyes closed and her lips firmly latched onto his, Phryne deftly undid the buttons of his trousers. He swatted her hands away before she could go any further. He pulled away from her. Her eyelids were heavy and her pupils blown with desire. Her lips were delightfully swollen from their kiss. Her mouth was half-open and her breathing hard. Jack took a minute to commit the sight to memory.

He slowly kissed his way from her cheekbone to her temple, before nipping at the soft skin just under her ear. She made a small, mewling sound. In his head, he started a list of Phryne Fisher's most erogenous zones.

Jack slowly pulled onto the knot holding her silk robe close. He swallowed hard when he realized she was wearing nothing underneath. He stopped kissing her and stared at the pale skin, the small breasts, the taut stomach and the dark curls at the apex of her thighs. She took a step back from him and let the robe fall completely from her body.

“No painting can do you justice,” he rasped.

She grinned deviously, sat down on the edge of the bed and leaned back on her hands.

“Your turn,” she purred.

“Not yet,” Jack refused her.

She frowned and her lips curled in a small pout that Jack would have bet wasn't intentional. When he fell to his knees in front of her, her eyes widened and those pouty lips stretched into a very eager grin. Jack kissed his way up her thigh. He looked up at her, met her eyes and licked his lips. She chuckled, a deep throaty laugh that spurred him on.

He pressed his mouth to her core and she bucked up against him, pushing closer to him. She huffed out a sharp breath and one of her hand went to his head. She raked her nails across his skull. He thrust his tongue in her and she pulled sharply on his hair. He hummed. She fell back against the back, her arm bent over head, her mouth in the crook of her elbow.

“Ah fuck,” she gasped a muffled curse.

He ran his tongue up her folds and grazed his teeth over the sensitive nub before sucking gently on it. He pressed his hand over her stomach, trying to settle her as she started to thrash. He moved his mouth down and instead pressed his thumb against her clit. Her heel hit him square between the shoulders and he breathed out sharply against her. The puff of air on her heated skin made her arch off the bed.

He moved his hand from her stomach to her thigh and pushed it aside against the mattress. Jack pushed his tongue in her once more and started fucking her in earnest while he rubbed her clit. Soon, he felt her clench around him as she reached her climax. She jolted and came with a high keen.

He pressed light kisses to her sex while she caught her breath. Jack slowly kissed his way up her body until he was leaning over her and staring at her. Her eyes opened and she caught sight of his lips, swollen and wet with her arousal. She grabbed him by the back of his neck and brought him down for a kiss. She moaned at the taste of herself. She pushed him off lazily and kneeled on the bed while he stood in front of her. She kissed him and slowly opened the buttons of his shirt. He distracted her repeatedly with roaming hands over her breasts, over her buttocks and down her thighs. He shrugged the garment off when she was done.

“Move up the bed,” he whispered to her.

She smirked and for once, obeyed without protest. She laid down against the pillows, one foot flat on the mattress. She lazily stroked herself as she watched him take off his singlet, his pants and his underwear. Her eyes roamed over him and she hummed appreciatively. Once he was naked, Jack crawled over to her, dropping kisses here and there on his way up. He licked the underside of her breast and took her nipple in his mouth, pinching the other nipple between two fingers.

Phryne undulated behind him and sighed his name. She tugged on his hair to bring him up and kissed him deeply. Before Jack realized what had happened, he was on his back and she was straddling him, sporting the most glorious smirk. She leaned down over him and traced his lips with her tongue. She felt his erection at the back of her rump. She stretched backwards to wrap a hand around his cock and brushed a thumb over the tip. Jack cursed and bucked into her hand.

“This is going to be over embarrassingly fast if you keep this up, Phryne,” he whispered.

She batted her eyes at him with an innocent smile. She raised over him and slowly guided him in her. He watched his cock disappear in her body and inhaled sharply. His fingers dug into her hips. She rested her hands low on his stomach and stared into his eyes.

He knew there was a distinct possibility that she was going to break his heart at some point. But it was hard to imagine anything that wouldn't be worth the sight of Phryne above him, flushed and disheveled and watching him with soulful eyes. They stayed still like that for a moment. But despite how much Jack wanted to stay in that moment forever, he also desperately needed to do something about the fluttering of her inner muscles and the throbbing of his cock.

“Phryne, I have to... move, fuck.”

His last words caught in his throat when she moved her hips around. He watched, mesmerized by the sight of her abdominal muscles tightening and relaxing with every move. He thrust up into her. She met him going down as he pushed up. Her eyes closed and her mouth hung open as she rode him, harder and faster. She bit down hard on lip but a small moan escaped her anyway.

He sat up suddenly and her breath hitched. He kissed her, soothing her worried lip with his tongue. His large hands spanned her back to hold onto her. She wrapped an arm around his neck. Her other hand rested on his stomach, raking her nails over him. She threw her head back and he kissed along her collarbones. There was a drop of sweat at the hollow of her throat. He licked it away with a groan, loving the saltiness of it. Jack dropped one hand between them and moved his thumb over her clit.

“Come for me, Phryne,” he murmured, his mouth right at her ear.

The feel of him everywhere against her and in her, combined with the raspiness of his voice as he uttered those words sent her over the edge. She shuddered and pressed her lips against his neck. He felt the vibration of her muffled shout against his skin.

He grabbed her by the hips and flipped her on her back. She stared up at him with eyes wide and glassy. The friction of their bodies made Phryne jerk up, her orgasm still rippling through her. Her legs wrapped tightly around his waist and she moved a hand to his back. He pumped hard into her a couple of more times before he spent himself in her.

Jack rolled them over so that he was on his back with Phryne laying right on top of him, her hands still on his back and her head tucked in the crook of his neck. For a moment, the only sound in the room was their heavy breathing. Jack ran his fingers lightly along her spine, her skin sticky with sweat. He felt her lips stretch into a wide grin.

“We really should have done this sooner,” Phryne whispered.

“We might have if it weren't for your aunt,” he retorted.

She chuckled. She shivered as the sweat dried in the cool air of the room. She moved and her breath hitched when he slipped out of her. She opened the covers of the bed and they shuffled underneath. Phryne raised herself on her elbow, her hand supporting her head. She looked up at Jack, propped up against the pillows. She drew lazy patterns on his chest with the tips of her fingers. Jack suddenly frowned.

“I'm sorry, Phryne, I didn't ask about family planning...”

“Don't worry,” she answered with a small laugh. “If I barge in a man's room with the intent of seducing him, I take care of that ahead of time.” His mouth twitched in a small smirk. “I always knew you were a passionate man, Jack Robinson, and I am not disappointed,” Phryne gloated.

“Good,” Jack chuckled. “I have to admit, I was a bit worried about being... inadequate, compared to your past experiences.”

Phryne sighed and leaned down to kiss him softly.

“Jack, you're so much more than my past experiences,” Phryne whispered with a roll of her eyes. “Do I have the Chinese brothel to thank for your mastery of cunnilingus?” She asked suddenly.

She cast him an innocent look and an adorable moue as his breath hitched at her straightforward talk.

“Hum... no actually, you have Vicky to thank.”

Phryne hummed and moved over him, her legs on each side of his waist and her head on his shoulder. Jack trailed his fingers down her arms.

“I smell a story,” she purred. “Tell me about Vicky, Jack.”

“Well, when I turned eighteen, a few buddies of mine chipped in to...” he trailed off and cleared his throat. “They bought me a night with a prostitute.” She giggled and pressed her lips to his neck. “Vicky made it her mission to ensure young men would be able to properly please their future wives,” Jack explained.

An image of a young and in love Rosie Sanderson briefly crossed Phryne's mind. Then she got distracted by Jack's hand traveling down and squeezing her ass.

“How altruistic of her,” Phryne sighed. “Jack?” she called softly. He hummed. “What did my father talk to you about?” Silence was her only answer. She rose over him to look at his face. His eyes were closed and his features were relaxed. She wasn't fooled. “I know you're faking it, Jack,” she whispered.

The corner of his mouth twitched. She kissed it. She slid from his body and nestled against his side.

* * *

 

Jack awoke during the night, bothered by a cramp in his hand. He turned his head and smiled when he realized the origin of his discomfort. Phryne was laying on her stomach right at his side, her head pillowed on his arm. Her hand was curled in a loose fist, in the middle of his palm, looking small and delicate in his large hand. Jack smiled.

He wriggled his fingers, trying to get his circulation going again, in vain. He winced, although pins and needles seemed a small price to pay for the sight of Phryne, sleeping peacefully beside him. He laid still for a minute, enjoying watching her sleep but desperately wanting to wake her up. Jack turned on his side, his free hand going to the small of her back over the sheet. He pressed a kiss to her shoulder, grazed his teeth against her first vertebrae. Her hair tickled his nose and he blew lightly on her skin.

She must have felt him because she moved then. She stretched her back, bringing her shoulders closer. Her hand opened, her fingers stretched. Jack brought his hand under the covers and over the warm skin of her hip. He brushed his thumb over her hipbone. She sighed softly.

“Jack,” she whispered, her voice husky with sleep.

Phryne moved on her side, her back to him. He took the opportunity to close his hand over her breast. He bit the sensitive spot right under her ear, and soothed it with a lick of his tongue. She moaned. Jack felt himself growing hard. He rolled her nipple under his thumb before moving to the other one, pinching it gently. She reached blindly behind her, sliding her hand down his stomach before it closed over his cock.

Her hand moved up and down his hardened length. He rasped her name in her ear. He kissed her neck. He brushed his thumb over her lips and she sucked it into her mouth. He grunted and jerked against her. He slid his wet finger down her chest, between her breasts.

“Please, Jack,” she sighed.

He took the hint and brought his hand down between her thighs. He ran a finger along her already wet folds, spreading her arousal over the fleshy pink skin. He pressed his thumb against her clit. She jerked and exhaled sharply. Phryne bent her knee and raised her leg. She arched her back and stretched her leg backwards until it was hooked over his hip. Her hand left his cock and grabbed his buttocks. Jack pushed a finger in her, then another, and scissored them inside her.

When he was satisfied that she was ready for him, he slipped his fingers out of her. Slowly, he entered her from behind. Her breath hitched and he groaned with the delicious, tight heat of her. His movements were slow and lazy but he still felt his release nearing. She turned her head towards him and their mouth met in a mess of lips and teeth and tongue. He pinched her clit gently and she sobbed his name. Her hand went to his testicles from behind. She raked her nails over the sensitive skin there.

“Fuck, Phryne,” he growled.

His hips bucked up and he pushed harder, deeper into her, hitting something in her that made her keen and jerk violently against him. She clenched around him, coming with a sob and a shudder. He wasn't far behind her. He spilled inside her and growled what might have been her name. She fell back on her stomach and he collapsed over her. He was about to roll away but she reached for his arm, keeping him draped over her.

“Don't move,” Phryne hummed.

Jack complied happily. He pressed his lips to her neck. He frowned when he remembered what had started out that nighttime tryst.

“Phryne,” he whispered reluctantly, “I love you but I'm going to lose my hand if you don't move.”

She giggled sleepily. She slid down slightly, moving her head off his arm and onto a pillow. Jack exhaled sharply as the feeling returned to his limb. He bent is arm at the elbow so that he could rake his fingers in her hair. He pressed a kiss to her cheekbone and soon, they were both fast asleep again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That image of Phryne sleeping beside Jack with her small hand curled in his gigantic one was the start of this whole fic.
> 
> By the way, you can find me on tumblr as askmetojumpoffacliff. Come say hi! ;)


	5. Chapter 5

When Jack awoke, he was immediately assaulted with the feeling of a warm body over him, of soft lips on his skin. He remembered the night before and smiled. His eyes opened. Phryne was straddling him, bending low over him as she kissed his chest. His morning erection was pressed against her stomach. His breath hitched and she looked up.

“Morning, Jack,” she rasped with a devious grin.

She slithered down. She dipped her tongue in his bellybutton. She bit the tender skin right underneath and soothed the spot with a lick. His heart pounded when he realized where she was headed. He gulped. She wrapped her hand around him and flicked her thumb over his tip, spreading moisture around. She cast him a heated look before sinking onto him. His eyes rolled back at the feeling of being engulfed in the wet heat of her mouth. Her head bobbed up and down slowly.

She hummed around him and her eyelids fluttered as she delighted in the taste of him. Oral sex was a treat Phryne reserved for the men she knew and trusted. As far as Jack was concerned, the treat was as much for her as for him, seeing as this had been a fantasy of hers for months now. She had often imagined herself sinking to her knees at his feet as he sat in her parlor.

Phryne pressed her thighs together, getting distracted by her own arousal. She opened her eyes and met Jack's. She released him with a pop then, and beamed at him. She trailed the flat of her tongue along the length of him. She made a ring with her thumb and index fingers around his cock as she swirled her tongue over his tip.

“God, Phryne,” he chocked.

His hands closed around the sheet, his knuckles white with the effort of not thrusting into her. She took him fully in her mouth again. She hollowed her cheeks and lightly scraped her nails over his balls. He groaned. She inhaled slowly through her nose. She made eye-contact with him and took him deep in her throat. He lost his self-control and jerked up. She felt the muscles of his thighs tighten under her hands and she smiled.

She moved up and back down, deep-throating him again while simultaneously rubbing a finger over his perineum. He grunted and jolted under her. He came hard, his whole body tensing as he spent himself in her mouth. She licked him clean and stroked her hands along his thighs, bringing him down softly with her soothing caresses. He shuddered a last time before his cock softened.

She wiped the corners of her mouth with the pulp of her thumb and sat up. She straddled him again.

“I'm so sorry Phryne, that was...unexpected,” Jack mumbled.

She leaned over him, her nipples brushing his chest and ghosted her lips over his.

“Why are you apologizing? I loved drinking you down, Jack,” Phryne purred.

He blinked slowly and his lips twitched with a refrained smirk. Phryne swung her leg over him and, much to his disappointment, left the bed.

“Phryne?” he called after her while his eyes feasted on her naked form.

“I have to get back to my room and get cleaned up before going down for breakfast,” she explained with an sorry pout. She pulled her robe on and tied it. She sat down on the edge of the bed, near him and leaned down to kiss him. “I love you,” she whispered, so very quietly.

He brought his hand up and stroked his thumb over her cheekbone.

“I love you too,” Jack answered.

Those words never came easy for her. Phryne loved a great deal. She loved her companion and her ward fiercely. She loved Hugh and Mac. She loved her parents. She loved her sister, always. But she was a firm believer that actions spoke louder than words. Words could deceive and Phryne had always been a woman of action.

Yet it felt important to her to say the words in the morning light. She knew Jack was still unsure about his place in her life, among the other men in her life. He needed to know how much he mattered, how much she cared.

Jack stared at her with wonder. She was a tornado. She was a temptress, a whirl of seduction. The next minute, she was soft and tender, gentle as she nuzzled into his hand and met his eyes with a soft smile.

* * *

 

When Phryne got down, she didn't find anyone in the dining-room or the living-room. She walked into the kitchen. Her brows furrowed when she saw her mother at the stove.

“Am I still asleep and dreaming?” Phryne quipped.

Margaret Fisher turned and scowled at her daughter. Phryne laughed and went over to kiss her on the cheek.

“I gave Carson and Millie the day off for Mary's wedding,” Margaret explained, referring to her former maid.

“A whole day without help?” Phryne teased.

“You do realize I raised two daughters without help, before your father inherited his title,” Margaret observed.

Phryne deflated a bit at that statement, remembering the hard years in Collingwood, when Margaret barely had any help from her husband, let alone any servant. It seemed like a lifetime ago, another life where she was poor, hungry and dirty, but one where she had a sister. She took a seat at the table, her elbows on the wood, and rested her chin in the palm of her hand, looking at her mother with a gentle smile. The woman cast a strange look at her.

“It's nice to see you so happy, Phryne, so at peace,” Margaret said.

Phryne tilted her head down and her hair fell in front of her face, hiding an embarrassed smile.

“You're really serious about him, aren't you?” her mother asked gently.

Phryne tucked her hair behind her ears and nodded.

“Yes, I think so,” Phryne confessed in whisper.

“Does this mean you have changed your mind about marriage and family?” Margaret inquired, with a twinkle in her eyes and an excited grin.

“Oh for heaven's sake, mother,” Phryne sighed. She stood up, crossed her arms and leaned against the table. “No, I did not change my mind just because I happened to fall in love with a man!”

Margaret nodded, her lips drawn in a thin line. She took the pan of eggs off the stove and turned towards her daughter.

“How do you think the Inspector will feel about this?” Margaret asked her.

“I already know how he feels about it!” Phryne exclaimed. She raised her hands in the air, palm up, in a show of exasperation. “Jack knows me and accepts me. He just wants to love me, mother, not change me.”

“You know I love you darling. I've always admired your courage and your free spirit.”

Margaret stepped closer to her and cupped her daughter's cheek.

“But?” Phryne questioned.

“But I did hope he might have changed you, just a little bit.”

Phryne bit her lip, hating herself for the tears that sprung to her eyes.

“Well I'm sorry to disappoint, mother.”

“You're not, darling, you're absolutely not. But... well with your sister gone, I kept hoping you would add to the Fisher family.”

“I have. Her name is Jane,” Phryne objected, angered with her mother brushing aside her young ward. “And how dare you use Janey to... what? Guilt me into giving you grand-children? You have no right,” she hissed.

“Don't talk to me like that, Phryne,” Margaret protested softly.

“Well maybe you should have father lock me in a closet,” Phryne sassed.

She burst out of the room, seething with anger. She crashed into Jack in the hallway.

“Hey, hey,” he sputtered. His hands went to her shoulders. “What's going on Phryne? What's wrong?”

She paced up and down the hallway, her arms flailing around.

“My mother is driving me insane, Jack!” she exclaimed.

Jack cast a quick glance towards the kitchen, concerned about Margaret hearing her daughter's words. He stepped closer to Phryne, grabbed her waist.

“Phryne, come on, calm down,” he said softly.

“I don't want to calm down!” she protested.

He huffed a laugh and she narrowed her eyes at him. She softened when she met his eyes. She sat down on the stairs and he joined her.

“She is pressuring me to have children,” Phryne admitted.

“What about Jane?” Jack asked.

Phryne looked up at him. His immediate reaction, his constant protectiveness of Jane, was like a balm on her heart. A small smile curled her lips.

“No matter how much she loves her, she doesn't see Jane as a Fisher. And she had the gall to use Janey to try and guilt me,” Phryne explained more calmly.

Jack sighed and stroked her back.

“You're all she has Phryne,” Jack whispered. “She just wants you to be happy. And to her that means marriage and children.”

“Can't she just accept that it isn't what will me me happy?” Her answer was so close to a whine that Jack knew she already felt better. He pressed his lips to her hair. “Don't you want children?” Phryne asked in a small voice.

“I want you,” he answered quickly.

“That's not what I asked.”

Jack sighed. He wrapped his arm around Phryne and brought her against him.

“Truth is, I wouldn't have minded being a father,” he admitted. “But I don't mind not being one either. That was part of our problem with Rosie. She didn't think I wanted it enough.”

Phryne pulled back to look into his eyes. She seemed satisfied with what she saw because she smiled and stroked her thumb over the knuckles of his hand. Suddenly, his stomach growled and she laughed loudly.

“Alright, let's feed you, Jack,” Phryne announced.

She slapped her hand lightly on his thigh. He stood up and pulled her up by the hand. She fell into him with a huff of laughter. She grabbed the lapels of his jacket. She arched into him and he leaned forward to kiss her, his tongue immediately dipping between her lips to softly stroke hers.

The front door opened and slammed shut. Phryne and Jack pulled apart sharply. Henry Fisher stood in the entry hall, his hands on his hips, and scowled at their display of affection. Margaret rushed out of the kitchen, still in her apron, the pan in her hand, and almost bumped into Jack in her hurry.

“Oh,” she breathed. “I was worried Phryne had run of the house.”

Phryne turned to her mother, her brows furrowed and her fists on her hips.

“Well you did have a habit of slamming doors when upset, darling,” Margaret clarified.

Phryne glared, both at her mother and at Jack, who was sporting a delighted grin.

“Who wants scrambled eggs?” Margaret offered then.

* * *

The day was beautiful, sunny and warm. Phryne packed them a picnic and they had tea and biscuits in Hyde Park. They lounged on the grass while they chatted comfortably. She slipped off her shoes and rested her feet casually in his lap, her toes brushing lightly across his crotch every now and then. He cast her a warning look and took her foot in his hand, pressing his fingers into the sole.

Phryne regaled him with stories of her journey to London and worried him at the same time when he realized they would both be traveling back by plane. She laughed brightly when he expressed his thoughts.

“Don't you trust me, Jack?” she teased.

“On the land? With my life. In that ridiculous plane of yours, I'm not sure...” he replied.

She laughed again, then proceeded to kiss away his worries.

Phryne had a dress fitting that afternoon. Her mother's birthday was the next week and her parents were throwing a party on Wednesday for the occasion. Phryne wanted to make a lasting impression on the London High Society before she went back to Melbourne. She suggested Jack tagged along for the fitting but in the end, they both agreed it might get them into trouble. Besides, Phryne looked forward to Jack seeing her in the finished garment for the first time...

So she left him on his own for a while. He took the opportunity to purchase an outfit of his own for the party. He couldn't afford the haute-couture Phryne was used to, but anything would be better than what he had traveled with. He didn't want to stand out too much, especially with Phryne on his arm.

They both marveled at how much they missed the other's company, even after they spent almost every moment together since Jack's arrival.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys so much for the support! Keep the comments coming! ;)


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In my mind, Miss Fisher's murder mysteries and Downton Abbey exist in the same universe. If you watch the show, you'll probably catch a few references!

Phryne insisted they left early the next day, refusing to tell him what she was up to. She borrowed her parents' car and they drove over three hours. Eventually a road sign announced they were entering Stratford-upon-Avon.

“As a Shakespeare fan, you should get to see the holy land at least once,” Phryne explained with a bright smile.

“This was a great idea, Phryne. Thank you,” Jack expressed, the last words breathed against her lips.

They strolled along the streets arm in arm and Jack kissed her right in front of Shakespeare's childhood home. They had lunch in an adorable little cottage.

They rented a row boat for an hour and paddled around the canal. After Phryne splashed him one too many time, Jack passed her the oars with a smirk, arguing that her restless hands could be put to better use. She arched a perfectly defined eyebrow and chuckled a dirty laugh. Jack had the urge to douse himself with the cold water.

It was dark when they got back on the road. At one point, Jack started to softly croon a Gene Austin's song, his fingers tapping the melody on Phryne's thigh.

A couple of miles later, Phryne left the main road and stopped the car seemingly in the middle of a field. Jack couldn't see anything but the distant outline of a lone tree.

“Phryne?” Jack called, curious.

The next second, she was sitting in his lap, her knees bracketing his hips and her teeth tugging on his lower lip.

“Your voice always drives me insane, Jack,” she purred.

He gasped as she rocked against him, brushing over his hardening cock. She tugged his shirt out of his pants and splayed her colds hands over his stomach. He hissed at the contact and retaliated by biting her neck. Her nails scraped down his abdomen until she reached his trousers and undid the first button. He grabbed her hands and raised an eyebrow at her.

“Here?” he croaked.

“There's nobody around for miles, Jack,” she whispered.

The last bit of restraint and propriety left him. He lunged at her, his mouth closing over hers as his hand cupped the back of her head. His other hand traveled up her thigh under her skirt. He cupped her buttocks tightly and bucked up against her.

She moaned his name, delirious with his madness for her. He slipped his hand underneath her blouse, caught between the cool feel of her silk blouse and the warmth of her bare skin. He pulled down her brassiere and pressed his palm over her breast. He rolled her nipple between thumb and index before moving his focus to the other breast.

Quickly, she pulled him out of his trousers and stroked her thumb over the already wet tip of his cock. He groaned against her lips. She took him in her hand and pulled aside her underwear to guide him in her.

She took a second to adjust.

His hand moved to her waist, down her thigh and under her skirt. Phryne started to undulate over him, her eyes never leaving his. With both his hands now firmly splayed over her hips and his feet firmly set on the floor of the car, he pushed up in her. She exhaled sharply.

“Oh Jack,” she keened.

With her eyes in his, she smiled and ghosted her lips over his. She rested her hands on his chest and moved up and down. She rose until he was almost out of her, before sinking down onto him again. Her own hand disappeared under her skirt to stroke herself and she arched against him.

Jack raked his fingers in her hair and pushed her head back. He scraped his teeth against her exposed throat. Her breathing became panting as she grew closer to her climax. Suddenly her eyes widened.

“Jack, wait,” she chocked.

He stilled immediately, although his thighs clenched with the effort of not bucking up.

“What's wrong?” Jack worried.

“I don't have my diaphragm,” Phryne explained, breathless, her face tense.

“Oh, okay,” he rasped. “Do you... We should stop, right?”

“You'll need to pull out. Do you think you can?”

He took a second to think, not wanting to be flippant about the matter. He nodded.

“I resisted your charms for over a year,” he whispered hotly in her ear. “What does that say about my self-restraint?”

Phryne laughed before kissing him. She started moving again then and rode him with passion. He pushed her hand away to flick his thumb over her clit and rub circles over the small nub. Her orgasm hit her suddenly and sharply. She cried his name in the night, Jack marveling at the sound, and she quaked over him, her nails scratching his abdomen.

Jack knew he wouldn't be far behind. So he pushed her back slightly, and slid out of her before he came, grunting her name. He looked down and realized he had spilled himself all over her skirt. She followed his gaze and breathed a soft “oh”.

They both looked up and their eyes met. Phryne burst out laughing. He stared at her, taken aback by her reaction. But her laugh was infectious and soon, he was laughing with her. He wrapped his arm around her and she curled against him, still shaking with laughter. They both fell silent after a minute. She pressed her lips to his throat and sighed.

“Would you mind driving for a bit?” Phryne asked as she swung her leg over him and slid in the small space between him and the car door. “I'll tell you the way.”

He acquiesced with a gentle smile and moved to the driver seat. Luckily, he had a good memory of their journey, because Phryne was asleep within minutes. She was curled in her seat, turned towards him. Her legs were tucked under her and her joined hands pillowed her cheek. Jack reached out to brush a strand of hair away from her face and smiled at her soft sigh.

* * *

 

She woke up late the next morning and was disappointed to find the bed empty. When she got down, she found her mother in the lounge, standing up on a stool with Millie kneeling at her feet, working on the hem of her mother's birthday party dress.

“Hello, darling,” Margaret greeted her with a bright smile. “What do you think?” she asked, stretching her arms in the air and mugging for her daughter.

“You look beautiful, mother,” Phryne complimented with a delighted laugh.

“Thank you, love,” Margaret grinned. “Millie, would you please fetch us some tea and biscuits?” she asked her maid.

“Of course, Your Ladyship.”

The young woman set away her sewing kit and stood up. The usually sweet maid cast a strange look at Phryne, nodded curtly and side-stepped her.

“What was that about?” Phryne wondered out loud.

“Millie is a little more traditional than what you're probably used to,” Margaret said cryptically, a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. “An unmarried couple sharing the same bed offends her morals, I think.”

Phryne fixed her mother with wide, innocent eyes and a small pout.

“That look didn't work when you were seven and it doesn't work now, Phryne. Millie noticed your bed hadn't been slept in while the Inspector's... Well I don't need to tell you, you were there.”

Phryne bit her lip and looked up at her mother sheepishly. She pushed herself on her bare toes and linked her arms behind her back. Margaret sighed and stepped down from the stool. She ran her hand along her daughter's arm.

“I'm not reprimanding you, darling, just explaining,” Margaret assured. She moved to the sofa, sitting carefully, mindful of her gown. “Come sit here, Phryne,” she asked, patting the space next to her.

Phryne nodded and obliged.

“It amazes me that you and Prudence were raised by the same people,” Phryne observed, earning a small laugh from her mother.

Margaret smoothed her daughter's bob with gentle fingers.

“I used to worry so much about you, Phryne. You were stubborn, unrepentant, reckless and much too smart for your own good,” Margaret said. Phryne rolled her eyes. “But I'm not worried anymore. You've grown into a beautiful and smart woman, much stronger and braver than I ever was. You have a passion. You have friends, money, even love. You're independent and self-reliant. You don't have to care about what the society thinks or says about you, nor should you care. You don't need anybody's approval. Although, if that means anything, you have mine.”

Phryne stared at her mother with wide eyes shining with unshed tears.

“Oh mother,” she sighed and fell into the her mother's arms. “It means a great deal.”

“I'll try to stop pestering you about marriage and children, Phryne, I promise.”

The two women were startled out of their embrace by the booming voice of Henry Fisher.

“Well this is a sight for sore eyes!” he exclaimed.

Phryne and Margaret both turned their head towards the door to see Henry, Jack and Millie staring at them.

“Just having a moment with my darling daughter,” Margaret beamed.

She waved the maid over, the young woman carrying a tray of tea cups and biscuits. Phryne stood up and sashayed towards Jack, as her father took her place by Margaret's side.

“Good morning Jack,” Phryne greeted with a grin and pecked him on the cheek. “What have you been up to?”

“Sending a telegram to Melbourne,” Jack answered distractingly, watching Millie as the young woman passed by them, carrying back the empty tray. She blushed furiously when she met Jack's eyes and she shuffled out of the room in a hurry. Jack frowned and cast an inquiring look at Phryne, who raised a shoulder in a half-shrug.

“She's a bit uneasy with our sleeping arrangements,” Phryne explained quietly.

“Oh? Oh!” Jack replied as he realized Phryne's meaning, and eyed her parents hesitantly.

He clenched his jaw and Phryne stared at the sharp features of his face. She swayed on her feet, closer to him, with her eyes now firmly set on his lips.

“Phryne?” Jack called, now sporting of smirk of half-amusement, half-reprimand.

“Don't worry, Jack,” Phryne whispered, shaken out of her reverie. “Millie is the only one who gives a fig about whose bed I sleep in.”

“Well, I kind of give a fig whether or not you sleep in my bed,” Jack rasped.

Phryne grinned. She turned on her heels, her bob flying around her face, when her mother called her name. The older woman was standing in front of the sofa, a hand resting at the curve of her waist while the other held a magazine.

Jack allowed himself a minute to acknowledge how beautiful the Baroness was, standing tall in a long, burgundy dress, her dark hair outlining the curve of her neck. He looked back at the younger Fisher and made the same observation. Phryne was much less adorned than her mother at the moment, but she was no less striking. Her hair was still slightly disheveled and her face was clean of make up. She was wearing her favorite black robe, with the peacocks on the back. Her beaming smile made his breath catch in his chest.

“Your father picked up this week's Sketch,” Margaret announced, brandishing the paper at her daughter. “They interviewed Phryne after hearing about her flight home,” she added for Jack's benefit, pride shining in her eyes.

“I almost died for two weeks straight, and no one interviewed me,” Henry Fisher grumbled.

Phryne glared at her father while she reached for the magazine.

“Don't be ridiculous, father,” she retorted. “You only almost died once and that's because I threatened to throw you overboard.”

Phryne caught the twitch of Jack's mouth that indicated he was holding back a smile and winked at him.

“I should get out of this dress,” Margaret said before she excused herself and left the room, her husband trailing behind her.

“You gave an interview to a society paper?” Jack commented once they were alone.

“It was a favor,” Phryne explained with a dismissing wave. “I was friends with the owner's sister once upon a time.”

Jack sensed there was an interesting story behind that simple explanation. But he let it go for now and walked closer to read the interview over Phryne's shoulder. There was a stunning picture of her leaning against her plane. There was also, he noticed, a smaller picture of the two of them, taken in Hyde Park.

“ _Miss Fisher was recently the receiver of her own romantic overture when Detective Inspector Jack Robinson, of the Melbourne Victorian Police, followed her to London after her hasty departure_ ,” Jack read.

Phryne blinked lazily, lulled by the velvet tones of Jack's voice, right by her ear. She turned her head to look at him over her shoulder.

“How do they know who I am?” Jack wondered. It was one thing for the Melbourne papers to identify him, but on the other side of the world?

“I may have mentioned you to Edith in passing,” Phryne explained, her voice a pitch higher than usual. “Not for the interview, just over drinks.”

She turned towards him and narrowed her eyes when she saw Jack's smirk. Phryne had been on his mind since her plane had taken off in Melbourne. It was nice to hear she thought of him as well while they were apart.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last chapter before a short epilogue! Thank you all so much for all your kudos and comments! <3

The next two days before the Baroness's birthday party passed quickly. They took a boat ride down the Thames, visited the Crown Jewels at the Tower of London, shopped for souvenirs for the rest of the gang back in Melbourne.

They even went on a short investigation when a young boy stole Phryne's purse and she refused to let it go. They caught up with the urchin on the docks and Phryne ended up giving him all of the change she was carrying. As an officer of the law, Jack sighed but he couldn't begrudge her her a soft spot for street children.

One evening, Jack surprised her with tickets to see Antony & Cleopatra at the Old Vic theater. Champagne and flowers – blue lilies – were waiting for them in the small booth that he had reserved. He silenced her protests of extravagance with a kiss.

* * *

 

The night of the party, when she got down from her room, Jack was sitting in the lounge, dressed in a simple, yet elegant tuxedo and a white bow tie. He stood up immediately when she entered the room. His eyes roamed over her until she was left slightly breathless. With his gaze still firmly set on her, Jack took a few steps towards her. She watched him come closer, her hands on her hips, a smile curling her lips. His heated gaze confirmed her satisfaction with her dress.

The gown was an emerald green that nicely complimented her eyes, with a light golden tulle over it. The gold trimming along the neckline and down the hips caught the light of the chandelier and gave Phryne a beautiful glow. The skirt of the dress ended just under the knee, but a light green tulle extended past it and brushed the floor.

Phryne turned her hands, palms to the ceiling, and twirled for him. The v shape of her neckline was replicated in the back and Jack gulped when he realized how low it dipped. He couldn't wait to trail his fingers down her bare spine.

“Like what you see?” Phryne purred.

“You're going to make this evening very hard on me, aren't you?” Jack rasped.

She grinned deviously as she took her time straightening his already straight bow tie. She splayed her hands over his chest and looked up at him.

“The harder, the better,” Phryne murmured.

The corner of his mouth twitched with amusement. To match her dress, Phryne was wearing a golden headdress, a sparkling chain of rhinestones and diamonds. It formed a small bow at her left temple and a short string of stones dropped to the corner of her eye. With the tip of his index, Jack slightly lifted the droplet and brushed a knuckle against Phryne's pale skin.

Phryne tilted her head a little to the side and her lids half-closed as Jack continued to trail his finger down her face and along the curve of her neck, stopping only when he reached her dress. Miss Williams wasn't here to interrupt him this time, so he leaned down and ghosted his lips over the pale skin. But soon after, Lady Fisher walked in and Jack took a quick step backwards.

“Baroness,” Jack greeted with a reverent nod and a smile.

“Happy birthday, mother,” Phryne exclaimed as she pecked her mother's cheek. “You look beautiful!”

“Like mother, like daughter?” Margaret quipped, watching Jack with mirthful eyes.

“I agree, Baroness,” Jack answered and smiled.

“Oh please, Jack, it's high time you called me Margaret,” the older woman suggested.

Margaret smiled and put her hand on her daughter's back, realizing she was touching bare skin. She took Phryne by the arm and turned her slightly in order to see the back of the dress. Phryne faced her again, sporting a bright smile.

“Don't you like it, mother?” she teased.

Margaret narrowed her eyes at Phryne.

“Just behave yourself tonight, would you?” Margaret sighed.

“Well of course, mother,” Phryne assured, in the same high-pitch tone her voice always took when she lied.

The Baroness cast her daughter a warning look, shared an amused smile with Jack and left the room.

“You heard that, Miss Fisher?” Jack said seriously, although the crinkle at the corner of his eyes gave him away. “Best behavior tonight.”

Phryne hummed and shrugged.

“Give it a couple of hours and you'll be begging me to be bad,” she retorted.

She turned away, threw him a teasing smile over her shoulder, and left the room with an extra sway in her hips.

A few minutes later, the first guests started to arrive. It wasn't a very big party, at least by the Fisher's standards. There was to be about twenty guests. Lady Fisher greeted them all personally as they arrived, showed in the large parlor by Mr Carson. Lord Fisher shook hands and smiled cordially, but he was much stiffer in his role than his wife.

James, Carson's nephew, was employed for the evening, as he often was for formal occasions. The young man was currently serving the guests their first drink.

Phryne knew most of the guests, and those she didn't knew her. She introduced Jack with an easy “my friend, Jack Robinson”. He was a bit tense next to her but being the son-in-law of the deputy commissioner, he'd had to attend several functions and he was pretty good with the meet-and-greet.

There were few people their age, and only two single men, introduced by their mothers who smiled brightly, gushed over her dress and totally ignored Jack. She could almost hear Jack's jaw clench in response, yet he remained impressively stoic through those encounters. Phryne, on the other hand, turned to Jack and rested a hand on his chest.

“Jack, darling, would you please get me another drink?” she asked, pressed a quick kiss to his cheek and turned back to the mother and son duo with a dazzling smile.

Any other day, Jack would tease her for mistaking him for her servant. But when he returned with two glasses of champagne, he only smiled and quickly ran his fingers down her spine.

Phryne groaned when she caught sight of the next guests. Jack cast her a questioning look but she only shook her head.

“Phryne,” a tall brown-haired man greeted simply. “How nice to see you again after all these years. Although from what I hear, you haven't changed a bit.”

Jack wasn't sure what was implied by the man but he knew he didn't like it one bit. Next to him, Phryne grit her teeth, reinforcing his dislike of the man. The stranger looked at Jack and smiled widely, as if the two men somehow shared a secret. It hit Jack that he might be one of Phryne's past lovers. Yet she didn't seem to have fond memories of him.

“Hello, John,” she said curtly, before turning towards the brunette standing by his side. “And you must be Lady Bullock. It's a pleasure to meet you,” Phryne addressed the young woman with a sincere smile and an outstretched hand.

After shaking the woman's hand, Phryne introduced Jack before politely excusing herself muttering something about needing another drink. Jack left her go, but kept his eyes on her.

He leaned against the mantel of the fireplace as he watched Phryne cross the room and grab another glass from a passing tray. She settled against the wall, sipping her champagne and swaying lazily with the music coming from the gramophone. After a good five minutes he went after her and reached her just as she was joined by her mother.

“Oh mother,” Phryne complained immediately. “Why on earth would you invite John Bullock? You know what a cad he is.”

“I know, darling,” Margaret assured and gently tugged on the tip of her daughter's hair. “But he's recently married and I'm close friends with his mother-in-law.”

Phryne huffed indignantly and crossed her arms. Jack couldn't help but smile at the sight. When Margaret went back to her guests, Jack slid closer to Phryne. He put his hands in his pockets, maybe to stop himself from trailing his fingers over her bare skin.

“You see his crooked nose?” Phryne whispered, leaning close to him and jerking her head towards Bullock. “My father did that,” she explained.

She rolled her eyes but smiled nonetheless, obviously a little pleased for once, at her father's less than stellar behavior. Jack frowned and looked at Phryne.

“Was he one of your dalliances?” he asked gently.

She looked at him oddly, a bit surprised at his unusual lack of jealousy. Instead, he looked concerned, even angry on her behalf. Phryne smiled a little. She nodded. She twirled her glass and drank from it before she started telling her story.

“It was just before the war. We'd moved to England not long after Janey died and we lived with my father's great-aunt in London. I got... well I got expelled from school after a couple of months.”

She grinned, her blue eyes shining with mischief and he chuckled. He definitely wanted to hear about what had led to her being expelled, but he knew that was a story for another time.

“I hid it from my parents and for weeks I pretended to go to school, when I was really working in a law office, making tea and running errands. That's where I met John and we quickly...”

“Became old friends?” Jack quipped, making Phryne smirk.

“Yes, exactly,” she confirmed.

“You were young,” he said quietly. She only hummed and shrugged.

“John offered to marry me after only a few weeks and I said no. It angered him that I could refuse him. He was a baronet and I had nothing to my name. The way he saw it, I should have been grateful that he wanted to make me a Lady.”

Phryne rolled her eyes and drank some more. She fell silent for a minute and Jack wondered if it was the end of the story. It wasn't.

“His third proposal was more like a threat,” Phryne eventually said. “Marry me or else. When I said no again he started telling anyone that would listen that I was... getting paid for my troubles.” She spat out the words with distate. Jack's hands became tight fists in his pockets. “Luckily my parents didn't believe him, although they were a bit miffed to learn I had been expelled from school. A short while later, my father inherited a fortune and a title but they still had to fight to get accepted in society. I left for war soon after and by the time I came back to London, things had died down.”

Jack didn't consider himself a violent man, but in this instant, he wanted nothing more than to try and crook this man's nose the other way with a good punch. Instead he dropped a quick kiss to her hair, mindful of their audience. Phryne slid close to him until they stood chest to chest.

“Not everyone is the gentleman that you are, Jack,” she whispered with a soft smile.

Her gaze was quickly drawn to his lips. She battled with her hunger for him, not wanting to embarrass her mother by kissing Jack in front of the guests. But in her mind she was pushing him against the wall and raking her tongue along the roof of his mouth. She made a small, strangled noise in the back of her throat and her heavy breathing pushed her breasts up against Jack's chest. When she looked up from his lips, Phryne was met with his hungry gaze, his eyes darkened with arousal.

“Are you begging yet, Jack?” she breathed.

Jack smiled like he knew she was the one closer to begging for a quick shag in that instant.

Before he could answer, Henry Fisher asked for everyone's attention. He thanked his guests, wished his wife a happy birthday and invited everyone to move into the dining-room. Luckily, Margaret had seated them next to each other and close to two eccentric older women, who were fascinated by Phryne and Jack's investigations and made the dinner a very pleasant affair.

“Oh you two make such a lovely young couple,” the woman named Lorelai exclaimed at one point.

Phryne exhaled sharply, caught between a laugh and a scoff. She rarely enjoyed people commenting on her love life, even when they only had nice things to say. Besides, when someone complimented her relationship with Jack, she found herself becoming a grinning, love struck fool, a feeling she didn't enjoy.

But Jack rested a warm hand on her thigh and she couldn't help but smile anyway. Under the table, she hooked her foot against Jack's ankle, making the leg of his pants ride up a little. He dug his fingers into the flesh of her thigh and narrowed his eyes at her.

After dinner, the guests moved back to the parlor while most of the men gathered in the library to smoke. Henry dragged Jack along and Phryne wondered if her father was trying to make a smoker out of the Inspector. That was one vice Phryne didn't enjoy, but when she heard the men were planning a game of billiard, she insisted on joining them.

She was followed by a couple of women and found several men willing to try and beat them at the game, including Jack. Her eyes met John Bullock's across the room and she smirked, unwilling to let the hardships of her past tarnish the present.

Phryne put two balls in corner pockets and missed her third by little. It was Jack's turn after her and he leaned over the table. Phryne walked behind him, brushing herself heavily against his backside. She heard him suck in a sharp breath and grinned. She stayed close to him, her chest pressed against his bicep, until he turned his head and narrowed his eyes at her. She stared at him with wide eyes and a small pout before she took a step back and watched him take his shot... and miss.

She chuckled and he glared playfully at her. She rested a hand on his chest and pressed her lips to the corner of his mouth in a kiss that would have been demure if it wasn't for the quick dip of her tongue against his skin. She felt pleasantly liquored up and freer now that she wasn't under the watchful eyes of the matrons of the aristocracy. As a result, she was less mindful of her proximity to Jack. She nestled against him and he put his arm around her. His thumb drew lazy circles on the bare skin of her back.

Phryne won the game and her father came over to congratulate her, exclaiming loudly how proud he was of his little girl.

“He would be prouder if I'd bet money on it,” Phryne muttered for Jack's benefit. “Come outside with me, I need some air,” she asked.

He smiled, nodded and followed her out of the library, to the kitchen and through the backdoor leading to the small yard. They could hear music coming faintly from the parlor. Jack grabbed Phryne by the waist to bring her close to him.

“You'll get cold,” he whispered in her ear.

She giggled. She wrapped her arms around his waist under his jacket and rested her cheek against his. They both swayed with the music.

“I'm going to have a hard time not running my hands all over you at our next crime scene,” she admitted.

He huffed a laugh that blew a strand of her hair against her cheek.

“Then we should just stay here forever,” he rasped.

She giggled again. He decided he loved nothing more than that sound.

“But I really want to ravish you properly in my own home,” she purred and kissed his neck, sucked on his earlobe.

“I'll never be able to look at your household in the eyes again, will I?” he joked, although he really wanted to find out just how vocal she could be.

“Don't worry, Mr B is really discreet. And I hope Dot and Hugh will have found a place of their own by the time we get back. Or breakfast will indeed be an awkward affair I'd say.”

Phryne had offered to the young newlyweds to stay at Wardlow after their honeymoon, until they could find a nice bungalow to rent. She realized how eager she was to get back to Melbourne, despite how much she was enjoying her time with Jack.

“I love my parents but I really can't wait to leave,” Phryne whispered. “I've spent enough time with my father to last me a lifetime.”

They stayed silent for a while. Jack trailed his fingers up and down her spine until she wasn't sure her goosebumps were because of the cold night air or his caresses.

“Do you want to know what your father told me, that evening in the parlor?” Jack asked. She leaned her head back to look him in the eyes, at least as much as she could in the moonlight. She nodded slightly. “He made me promise never to try and cage you,” he rasped.

She stared at him for long seconds, blinking slowly. She searched hard in her memories to try and remember when she had last felt so content, so wonderfully blissful. She had a vision of an abandoned bathtub in a dirty courtyard, a makeshift boat in which she and Janey traveled the world.

“And did you?” Phryne asked, her voice gruff with emotion.

“What do you think?” he answered.

She kissed him, and when his lips opened under hers, she sighed happily.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phryne's dress was inspired by this one:   
> https://fr.pinterest.com/pin/125467539590400146/


	8. Epilogue

In some ways, Jack thought he knew Phryne very well. Yet in other ways she remained a never-ending source of mystery. But by the time they were set to leave, Jack had learned several new things about her.

He learned that, although she didn't want him to move off her right after sex, Phryne didn't like waking in the middle of the night with him still on top of her. It caused her to panic as a matter of fact. The night it happened, she pushed him off so hard he almost rolled off the bed. She sat up, her back to the headboard , and hugged her knees to her chest. They talked for an hour, until she was relaxed enough to curl up against him and fall back asleep. His fists tightened so hard his knuckles turned white. His heart ached for her and he wished he'd had the opportunity to exchange a few words, or a few punches, with René Dubois.

He learned that, no matter how small she sometimes seemed when he held her, Phryne took more than her fair share of the bed. Rather, she liked to sprawl on her stomach in the middle of the bed, her outstretched limbs tangled with his.

He learned that she was at her softest in her bath. She was mellow, boneless almost, her features relaxed and her eyes heavy-lidded if not closed. Even when he sat behind her, when he ran his hands over her body, pushed his fingers in her, she came with only a shiver and a deep sigh as she reclined against him.

Jack realized that she had a sweet tooth that rivaled his, and that she was adorably testy about it. She liked middle-of-the-night-sex better than morning-sex. She liked kissing almost as much as she liked making love. She was a nuisance to have around when he tried to get dressed. She hummed softly, almost a mere vibration, when she brushed her hair, sitting at her vanity.

He realized there were no limits to how many times you can fall in love with one person all over again.

* * *

Phryne had always been big on physical contact. As a child, she'd press her sister against her heart to keep her warm on the cold nights when the blanket wasn't enough. She'd stroke her mother's hand when the woman worried over the thin soup that passed for dinner. On occasions, she would stroke the back of her hand softly over her father's forehead as he slept on the couch, just to make sure his shivering was alcohol-related and not the influenza.

For a while she had kept a reasonable distance – well reasonable for her at least – from Jack. But they grew closer, started to flirt with more intent and more and more, Phryne found herself with a hand on his chest or a finger on his lips. Now she seemed to always need the contact.

She ruffled his hair when they laid in bed together. She ran a finger over his Adam's apple when he spoke. She stroked the thin expanse of wrist not hidden by his sleeve when they sat at the table. She slipped her hands under his shirt when they were alone.

Phryne didn't like needing. But she was big enough to admit she needed Jack by her side. Once upon a time, that thought might have scared her. Because needing someone, loving someone, meant making yourself vulnerable and risk getting hurt. But she was older and wiser. She trusted in herself, in her own strength. She'd already gone through a lot and she was confident there was very little she couldn't survive. Including, if push came to shove, losing Jack. It would well and truly break her heart but she would get over it eventually, however long that might take.

The one thing she could never get over was losing herself. She was but a shell of herself by the time she managed to get away from René. She couldn't bear that feeling of being a stranger to herself and she refused to ever go through that again. But there was no doubt in her mind that Jack would rather lose her, than let her lose herself.

* * *

As they both stood in the airfield, ready to climb into her plane, Phryne smiled with ease and toyed with the lapels of his jacket. She was eager to get back to Melbourne and start her life with him, away from the prying eyes of her parents.

Jack looked slightly less serene.

“You know, we could still book passage on the next boat if you'd really rather not fly,” Phryne assured.

“I'll be fine, Phryne,” he replied, placating her with a resolute look. “Besides, you love flying,” he added.

She smiled and fell into him, pressing her lips to his. As far as she was concerned, a flight across the world was nothing compared to being in love. But if Jack wasn't overly confident in her plane's sturdiness, at least he shared her confidence in their romantic adventure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well this is it! I hope you enjoyed the ride as much as I did! ;) Once again, thank you so much for the continuous support! I couldn't have asked for a warmer welcome into this fandom.  
> By the way, I'm thinking of occasionally writing more ficlets set in my own little pocket of the Miss Fisher universe. We'll see!


End file.
